Snogged: An Insatiable State of Mind

HIMYM: Skinemax (Barney/Other, Lily) FRAO/NC-17

2009-11-10T22:19:20Z

I believe in healing with smut, so hope you enjoy this one!

Title: Skinemax

Author: snogged

Disclaimer: Carter Bays and Craig Thomas own the cast of How I Met Your Mother. I don’t. Please don’t sue.

Pairing: Barney/Other, Lily

Word Count: 844

Rating/Warnings: FRAO/NC-17; for voyeurism, sexual situations, and masturbation

Setting: set during Season 5's "The Rough Patch"

Summary: Lily watches Archisexture

Beta: None. All mistakes are mine.

A/N: Feedback is total love :)

While Marshall and Ted are distracted, Lily subtly presses the ‘eject’ button on the DVD player and carefully lifts the disc from the tray. She covers it quickly with the sleeve of her black cardigan and a guilty smile tugs at the corners of her lips. There’s something so dirty badwrong about watching her close friend in the throes of passion and lust, but she can’t help herself. She wants to chase down that shameful thrill and make it her bitch, dammit.

About three days after her porn heist, she finally gets the chance to watch it when Marshall gets called into Goliath National Bank for a conference call with the Prime Minister of Azerbaijan (or someone really important like that who would be awake on the other side of the world when its 9:00 in New York). She doesn’t bother with a fancy negligee or bra/panty set. She figures Barney would have wanted Ted to go au natural while viewing the tape, so she might as well offer the same accommodation.

She nestles into the mound of pillows on the queen-size bed and picks up the remote, pressing the ‘play’ button. She skips through 2005 Barney’s desperate plea for Ted to get him out of whatever steady relationship he might be in, and her breath hitches as the innocent brunette protests a little about the presence of the camera in the room.

Before he got with Robin, Barney was always good at finding women whose cup sizes worked in harmony with their IQ, and for some reason, they all flocked to him like moths to a deadly flame.

“The green light means it’s turned off,” Barney assures his unwilling porn star, and the woman visibly relaxes on screen, giggling as Barney’s fingers roam over the expanse of her supermodel-thin stomach.

“Oh it’s on, baby,” Lily murmurs, her own fingers moving up her tummy to pinch a rose-colored nipple. “It is so on.”

The home video quality is simple and plot line is pretty basic. Barney’s convinced the girl that he’s a talent agent for some made-up entertainment corporation who’s looking for a hot new talent. With each passing moment, he uses subtle manipulations with words, tongue, and fingers to push the woman further into uninhibited hedonism.

This, of course, drives Lily further into the dark pits of her guilty, wanton fantasy; taking her further and further away from the reality of Marshall, and marriage, and friendship. As far as she’s concerned, she’s not watching Barney, her friend. She’s watching Barney, the sex star. She’s watching Barney, the charismatic talent agent with a lean, muscular ass and a dick just aching to get inside the dripping cunt of his cinematic conquest.

Lily presses her three fingers against her own slit as the camera suddenly zooms in (probably has a button or something installed on his headboard), and she can see Barney line himself up with the woman’s pulsing entrance. A sultry moan catches in her throat as they slide home, stretching her, and making her hips roll.

On screen, Barney’s slutty friend grips Barney’s hips for dear life as he thrusts erratically, glutes clenching with each downwards stroke. Lily pumps her fingers inside the hot velvet vise of her core, and brushes her thumbnail across her sensitive clit. If he’s gonna go hard and fast, than she’s gonna match him pace for pace.

By the time, she gets close to climax; she’s practically bouncing off the mattress from the scorching intensity of her carnal lust. When she does fall into that blissful oblivion, it feels like a white-hot volcanic eruption gushing through her tiny frame, draining her of any and all energy. Simultaneously, the girl’s blissful screams echo through the audio feed of the tape. When he finishes, Barney rolls off of her, wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand.

Lost in her post-masturbation haze, Lily barely notices when Barney’s face fills the screen again, his ice blue eyes burning with devilish fire.

“Did you like the show, Lil?”

Lily flinches at her name, and instinctively pulls the covers over her exposed body. How in the hell did he know she’d be watching this?

He smirks, and she feels a chill coil in the pit of her stomach as she thinks about all the chances he could have to black mail her. “Don’t worry, my dear dirty hussy. You’re secret is safe with me.” But that feeling of ice disappears when his hands flail animatedly across the screen. “Dude! You should totally check out Dirty Hussies IV. There’s a scene in there that I know you’ll like.”

Lily nods, agreeing with Barney’s recording. It couldn’t hurt to steal a few more titles, and it isn’t like Ted would notice anyways since Barney has six other titles featuring references to architecture.

It’s really a win-win situation for everybody, and it's way better than watching Skinemax.

New LJ Layout :)

2009-11-10T04:34:50Z

'Tis the season for a change and with the amazing assistance of vamptastica, I have a shiny new LJ background/banner.

The banner was created by angelstoy and the background was added via vamptastica's brilliance.

I seriously have the coolest friends ever.

BtVS:Change The Addiction (6/9) - Willow/Spike - FRAO/NC-17

2009-11-08T23:28:44Z

Title: Change the Addiction (6/?)

Author: snogged

Disclaimer: Joss Whedon and Co. own the characters of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I don’t.

Pairing: Willow/Spike

Word Count: 2006

Rating/Warnings: FRAO/NC-17 for sexual situations and language

Setting: An alternate route from Season 6 - "Wrecked"

Summary: The best way to get over an addiction is to change it...

Beta: spikesredqueen and velvetwhip. Thank you both so much for putting up with me! I also want to thank all of my loyal readers because your support means the world to me.

A/N: Well over a year ago, I started writing the Addiction Series based off a drabble I did for btvsats_love that explored what Season 6 might be like if Spike had been part of Willow's magic intervention. It never got where I wanted it to, and this is my shot to look at it again with fresher eyes. I hope you like the journey!

Previous Chapters

From blondebitz

From angelstoy

The next morning, Spike can still smell the warm softness of Willow on his sheets as he lies down on top of them. His eyes drift towards the stone ceiling of his crypt, focusing on deep cracks and gouges formed from one of the many earthquakes that had rocked this California town.

The scent of her makes him feel heady with the sort of sensation that he can’t recall feeling for the Slayer. It’s not the type of scent that wiggles it’s away under the skin, and devours the host until there’s nothing left. There are no notes of obsession, or madness, or masochism.

It is, however, the type of scent he wants to savor over and over again. It’s an olfactory craving that he can feel course through his veins.

Most of all, the sweet, strawberry smell leaves him with an understanding that his motives for helping Willow run deeper than he ever could have fathomed…and from what he saw last night in her submission to his tongue, he’s willing to wager that she’s feeling the same way right about now.

‘Course, there’s no way for him to verify that at the moment with her being away at the Magic Box tending to Anya’s new shipment of slug-scented candles and chattering about what color streamers should decorate the furniture at Buffy’s birthday tonight.

As his mind rolls around Buffy’s name, Spike inhales an unnecessary breath and leans over the bed, pulling a beaten-up pack of cigarettes and his lighter from the inside pocket of his leather duster. He pulls a tube from the pack, sticks it between his lips, and flicks the lighter. The cigarette’s end glows ember red and his lungs suck in the rich tobacco smoke.

The idea of spending six hours with that haughty bitch breathing down his neck while that idiot boy, Xander. ruins his vocal chords singing the Birthday song doesn’t sound like something high on his priority list.

But Willow did extend an invitation, and it would likely earn some brownie points with her. Especially since she’s desperate enough to let him do anything in his power to keep her from down-spiraling into the dark magic again…it really is the least he could do.

Drawing in another puff of smoke, he sighs deeply, feeling the burn course through his veins. Maybe tonight he would push her a little further over the razor-sharp edge of their agreement, show her what its like to really taste the darkness and oblivion he can offer her, and bury her problems once and for all under a sheen of sweat and a few carnal screams.

And that’s a party he wouldn’t want to miss.

***
Willow stands in front of the full-length mirror in her bedroom, chewing nervously on her bottom lip as she analyzes her outfit choice for the evening. The knee-length black skirt looks okay, but the peasant shirt looks lumpy, and being lumpy for Buffy’s party sounds like a really bad idea. Especially with Spike coming.

A blush heats her cheeks at the thought of the blond vampire making her come the night before, and her fingers grip the hem of the top, half-heartedly tugging at the fabric. She still can’t believe that she let him slide his tongue between her legs, that she let him wind her body up like a toy until her body let go of the tension with some sort of crazy whoosh.

Everything Spike did to her, everything he said to her, every look he gave her felt like a challenge to her moral structure. She’d been raised to think that love and commitment were supposed to come before physical intimacy, and even though Spike had made the commitment to take care of her, to heal her of her addictions…she didn’t love him.

Yes, she definitely feels something for him, but it isn’t the same sort of feeling she had for Oz or that she has for Tara. It’s something far different. Something that’s more under the skin, more like an ultimate thrill, or an adrenaline surge. Something that’s more like blindly falling off the edge of a cliff, instead of something that’s like falling into a safety net.

She tugs at the shirt again, and glances in the mirror, letting satisfaction settle in the pit of her stomach. “It’s about as lumpless as it’s gonna get,” she mutters, before walking over to the bed, and grabbing the colorfully-wrapped gift off the mattress.

Strains of Anya and Xander’s conversation hit her ears as she descends the staircase…something about the rancid smell coming from the cheese platter and what sort of cheeses should be on the platter at the wedding…and as she gets closer to the kitchen, she can hear them shoo Dawn away so that she doesn’t interfere with the adult male friend who’s coming over to see Buffy.

Dawn pushes past her in a huff, barely acknowledging Willow’s presence as she heads upstairs to her room to cool down. As Dawn climbs the creaking stairs, the back door swings open, and Spike steps inside, carrying a six-pack of Pabst Blue Ribbon. Willow catches his knowing smirk and smiles as Clem stumbles in behind him.

“Spike.”

Willow leans against the door frame, watching Buffy’s facial expression switch from smile to scowl, and her heart starts to pound inside her chest. What if Spike says something? What if Spike says something about her? What if Spike gives her secret away?

It’s not like she’s a good liar. Xander told her once that she’s got more nervous tics than a Lyme disease research facility, and while that was funny at the time because of the reference to tiny bugs, she doesn’t really feel like showing those off tonight if things get awkward.

Her friends would probably burn her at the stake if they knew what she was doing to avoid the magic, and that feels like a best case scenario. She can’t even bring herself to think of what the worst case scenario might be…

“Willow mentioned there was a shindig going on. Figured I’d stop by,” Spike says nonchalantly, stepping further into the house.

Willow sees Buffy’s hair shake, a symbol of her nodding, a symbol of her best friend not pushing the subject any further, and she lets go of the breath she’s been holding in. With a quick glance at Spike, she backs away from the kitchen door, heading towards the stairwell.

What she doesn’t see is the look on Buffy’s face, the look that clearly asks why Willow would be talking to Spike in the first place. But Spike sees it well enough, and once Buffy starts busying herself with the beverages, he saunters out of the room and finds Willow wrapping her arms around her body, hiding in the shadows of the staircase.

“Red?” Spike asks, his hand instinctively dropping onto her hip, and taking a step forward to narrow the gap between them. He doubts the rest of the party will go looking for them anytime soon, and he can’t resist getting closer to her.

“I’m not ready, Spike,” Willow whispers. “Not ready to tell them…”

His eyes soften and his lips press forward, catching the corner of her mouth with a kiss. “No need to tell anyone about it, pet. Addicts are good at keeping secrets.”

This kiss reminds her of the aftershocks she felt from last night, so Willow’s fingers clutch the lapels of his coat, and her covered breasts bump against the hard planes of his chest. He’s firm, solid…like the foundation of a house. It’s hard to believe that a well-placed wooden stake to the heart could turn him into dust. She deepens the kiss, confidence washing over in waves as her tongue sweeps over Spike’s lips, seeking entrance into his mouth.

As the aching heat grows between her thighs, she wishes she could use magic. It would just take a second to make every person in the house disappear so that he could do the same thing he did last night. So that he could do more than he did last night.

Spike’s hand slides off her hip, skating around to cup her ass, memorizing the curves, the smoothness. He breaks the kiss, swallowing back a groan as he moves to nip at her ear. Willow bites down on her lips to fight back a whimper as Spike’s skillful tongue sweeps over the outer lobe. “Could push your skirt up ‘round your waist, and take you right here. Could make you squirm and writhe with all your friends in the other room. Betcha that’d be the sorta thrill that the magic never gave ya.”

He captures her lips again, pushing her tighter against the wall, and sucking the moans from her throat as his free hand skates down her side. He finds the hem of her skirt, and pushes it upwards…he just needs it to be high enough so that he can get inside of her, and resolve the pressing urgency growing inside his pants without drawing unnecessary attention to their dark corner.

Willow squeezes her eyes shut, hoping to ignore the conversations of her bestest friends going on less than fifteen feet away from her. She can’t help but feel the thrill that Spike promised to give her when she agreed to this experiment, and she also can’t help but feel drops of liquid heat sliding down her thighs.

Or, the engorged head of Spike’s erection suddenly pressing against her clit right now.

When did he move her panties out of the way?

When did he take his pants off?

Meep...

The sudden scratch of denim rubbing against her thighs answers the last question, and the sudden jolt of electricity coursing through her veins when his cock twitches against her clit again is enough to make her forget caring about her first questioning thought.

Willow sucks in a quick breath, her body thrumming with an energy that seems foreign to her, an energy that she never got from the magic.

With one thrust, he finds his way inside of her, using the cream-colored wall to keep his balance as he finds a pace that she can deal with without giving away their location. She’s so wet for him, so needy for it, and she’s a far cry from the woman who made a no-sex rule just three weeks ago. His dick twitches and pulses inside her velvet walls, loving the way she squeezes him, the way she draws him deeper into her warm, gooey center.

He wants to savor her, wants to extend this journey, wants to make her feel each and every quiver. But there’s no time for that tonight, not with Father Time holding them in a vice-like grip, not with the din of shuffling feet in the background. So he chases their orgasms with lightning, using centuries of practice in sex and seduction to get them where they need to go.

A blissful cry catches in Willow’s throat, as her body shudders and spasms with pleasure, and her climax rips through her body with the intensity of a typhoon before her brain even has the chance to recognize what Spike just did to her.

“Holy crap,” Willow breathes, willing her body to recover so that she can make it through present-opening without causing a scene.

“Holy crap doesn’t even start to cover it. I’m thinking ‘holy shit’ might be more appropriate.”

It takes Willow less than three seconds to realize that the voice…isn’t Spike’s and it takes more than five seconds for her to find the courage to turn around and see who found them.

Please Note: I cannot take credit for the Lyme Disease joke. That credit must go to the writers of the Big Bang Theory

Birthday Wishes

2009-11-07T20:16:08Z

glitter-graphics.com

Happy Birthday aaronlisa! I'm so glad to have you as a friend :)

HIMYM Redux - "Bagpipes"

2009-11-03T05:25:30Z

Tonight's episode was pretty much a total win for me (I'm taking off a few points because they so could have used the patented LAME timeout function during the fight and chose not too).

*Because a picture speaks 1000 words:

OMFG! OMFG! OMFG! Alyson Hannigan plays the shit out of bimbo!Lily. And Barney making her dance for him. Mrowr....

ETA: I can't believe I didn't notice this but Lily's apron is incredibly reminiscent of the American flag. *g* Only Barney....

* 83 1/2 Beds. For two reasons: one it marks the return of the number 83 and that's a continuity win in itself. And second because it means Robin and Barney did it on an ottoman in a vintage shop. Probably during store hours. And baby, that's the way I like it!

* Bagpipes/Bagpiping. This was a really clever Dad metaphor for ~~sex~~- fucking. Because Ted's said sex on tv before and I bet that old couple is crazy. I mean, come on, they're tantric!

* Barney leaving and/or Robin taking off her clothes before a conflict starts. *tips hat to the RP* Yeah they do ;)

* The actual Barney/Robin fight montage. Breaking plates. Epic spazzing. This stuff was pure gold.

* The most perfect Marshall line of the night: "Son, I’ve been in a relationship since you had a ponytail and were playing Dave Matthews on your mama’s Casio… I’ve forgotten more about microwaving fat-free popcorn and watching Sandra Bullock movies than you’ll ever know." I was rolling on the floor in laughter.

* Ted/Marshall Slap Bet. Dude! Awesome

* T-Moze. Yeah, I'm down with it.

* Marshall and Lily make outs and Marshall and Lily actually acting like the Marshall and Lily that I know and love with all my heart.

* Lily's Shining impression scaring all the other Marshalls.

* Pancake and Bacon Strip.

Okay, there was one thing about this ep that irked me, but that dissipated after everything was explained. If you haven't guessed yet, it was Barney and Robin's nauseating attempts to be the perfect couple. Barnstormer????!! WTF, Writers?

So with that, I give this episode an arbitrary A-

PIMP: The Unlocked Awards (A Dawn-Centric Awards Community)

2009-11-03T04:02:19Z

The littlest Summers of the Buffy the Vampire Slayer fandom is getting credit where credit is due with the help of a brand new awards community dedicated to celebrating the best in Dawn-centric fic.

Click on the image above to read the rules and categories. You have until November 30th to nominate your favorites.

Holiday Card Requests

2009-11-02T14:37:17Z

The winter holiday season will be fast upon us and so it's time for me to make my annual offer of a holiday card.

Generally, my cards tend to be "Christmas" oriented (because those tend to be the cheapest) but I prefer selecting cards with funny or elegant messages instead of religious ones. If you would prefer the message to include a specialized holiday wish (such as Blessed Yule, Happy Hanukkah, etc.) Please let me know in your comments

You can either leave your address in the comments (they will be screened) or send me an email at penglii.girl @ gmail.com (but please make the subject heading something like "Holiday Card Request" and include your LJ username if we don't talk on email often)

Please don't feel obligated to leave your address or even feel obligated to send me a card in return.

I will love you just the same.

ETA: I am willing to send International so don't let that stop you either

HIMYM: Ph. D In Lily Aldrin (Marshall/Lily) FRAO/NC-17

2009-11-02T06:59:08Z

Title: Ph. D In Lily Aldrin

Author: snogged

Disclaimer: Carter Bays and Craig Thomas own the cast of How I Met Your Mother. I don’t. Please don’t sue.

Pairing: Marshall/Lily

Word Count: 982

Rating/Warnings: FRAO/NC-17; for sexual situations.

Setting: set sometime after Season 5's “Robin 101”

Summary: Marshall wrote the book on pressing Lily Aldrin’s sexual buttons.

Beta: None. All mistakes are mine.

There were only two things that were keeping Lily from passing out on the sofa on this particularly lazy Sunday afternoon. The first was the vibrant, distracting colors of Futurama and the second was Marshall’s fingers working her left, cherry-colored nipple to a hard point.

Her shirt and bra had come off sometime during the third episode and her body had been languidly warming under his touch ever since. When Bender mentioned something about kissing his shiny, metal ass, she nuzzled her head against his thigh, dark hair brushing against his faded grey t-shirt that bore the emblem of the Wesleyan Bishops.

Marshall responded with a quick nipple tweak, sending a buzzing arc of pleasure down to her core. He knew just how to recharge her battery, knew just how to break through her fuzzy, sleepy haze.

Lily twisted her body a little bit so she could lock eyes with him, and her body tingled from the lustful intentions she saw in his gorgeous eyes. He wanted her. He wanted to make her body come alive with moans and whimpers. And God, that’s exactly what she wanted too.

The hand that wasn’t concentrated on her full, round breasts threaded around her thigh until she could feel the bony ridge of his arm applying pressure to her pussy as those fingers spider webbed across the top of her pubic mound. It was a new sort of sensation, but it was one that left her feeling hopelessly aroused and desperate to lose her pants.

As he started to stroke her over her clothes, she rearranged herself so she could continue to grind her hips against him and grab his face with both hands to plant a kiss on her most favorite set of lips. (She’d never admit this to Robin, but Marshall’s lips beat out Hugh Jackman’s lips any day of the week.) She keened against his mouth and bucked her hips when he moved his hand so he could slide his thick fingers down the front of her jeans.

“Marshall…” she whimpered, seeking out his tongue with her own, determined to battle to the death as every square inch of her body started pulsing with need and animalistic desire. The way he was touching her made her feel crazy with lust, made her want to attack him, dominate him. It wasn’t fair that he got to be the one deciding how this game was going to go. She was supposed to be the seductive woman, supposed to be the one driving him mental with tantalizing teases.

Instead, she was going to be the one with the ruined set of panties because he hadn’t bothered to take them off before he made her sopping wet.

Marshall grinned like a dope as his wife propelled herself to her knees and straddled his lap. In this position, she was able to tower over him a little, able to swallow his face whole with her awesome, lip-sucking kisses. He loved making her nuts like this, loved feeling the wrath of her insatiability. It benefited him as much as it benefited her. “Yeah baby?”

“Bedroom. You. Me. Right freaking now,” Lily whimpered, fingers frantically clawing at his shirt. She wanted him naked, wanted him inside her, and she wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

“Yes, ma’am,” Marshall chuckled, offering her a brief salute as she scrambled to her feet and bee-lined towards the bedroom door. He followed her slowly, taking special care to admire the way her bum jiggled as she tried to get to the bed and lose her pants at the same time.

It was the cutest freaking thing in the whole world. Even when she’s gone all Discovery Channel’s Most Dangerous Animals on him from the lust he’d been slowly feeding her all day. Spending thirteen years with the same woman had taught him more than any 101 course could have, and he sure as hell didn’t have to keep a notebook in his bedside dresser to remember all the little details that made her squirm in her bedroom. He had his Ph. D in Lily Aldrin and everyone else who thought otherwise could simply suck it.

Lily reached into the drawer and pulled out a small, purple square of foil, pushing it into Marshall’s hand as her fingers nimbly hooked into the elastic band of his Sunday sweatpants and he assisted by shimmying his way out of them and out of his plaid boxers. Then, he plopped down on the bed and rolled the condom on, a smile stretching out his entire face.

With a heady, breathless sigh, she sank down onto his engorged erection and gave herself pause before she let the aphrodisiac known as Marshall take hold of her again. The simple act of connecting their bodies just added fuel to her fire, added the zing to her zang, the bing to her bang.

She rolled her hips suddenly, shifting the position of his cock inside her and drawing a moan from her lips. Marshall slid his hands around her waist, and relished the moment when she started to bounce up and down like a cowgirl riding her favorite steed.

“When you do that to me, it makes me feel like I could come in five seconds or less,” Lily panted, punctuating each word with every down-stroke. “And. It’s. Not. Fair.”

As they both chased the orgasms to the moon and back, Marshall couldn’t help but let a laugh escape his lips. “No reason to be jealous of the trade secrets, baby. They’re really a win-win for everybody.”

Lily’s eyelashes fluttered as she crested the wave of climax and finally slumped against Marshall’s body, laying down kisses on the hollow of his throat. She didn’t care if he didn’t want to tell her his secrets, as long as she kept getting Sundays like this one.

Because Sundays like this made Mondays a lot more bearable.

BtVS: Change The Addiction (5/9) - Willow/Spike - FRAO/NC-17

2009-11-02T03:10:53Z

Title: Change the Addiction (5/9)

Author: snogged

Disclaimer: Joss Whedon and Co. own the characters of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I don’t.

Pairing: Willow/Spike

Word Count: 2236

Rating/Warnings: FRAO/NC-17 for sexual situations

Setting: An alternate route from Season 6 - "Wrecked"

Summary: The best way to get over an addiction is to change it...

Beta: spikesredqueen and velvetwhip. Thank you both so much for putting up with me!

A/N: Well over a year ago, I started writing the Addiction series based off a drabble I did for btvsats_love. I never got anywhere with it and so I wanted to try a rewrite to see if I could take myself deeper.
A/N 2: I also want to thank blondebitz and angelstoy for the gorgeous banners below the cut. Both ladies are truly amazing!

Previous Chapters

From blondebitz

From angelstoy

***
She sees the bowl first, ceramic and smooth, a yellowish color that’s reminiscent of Spike’s hair when it’s slick and stiff with grease. As she steps closer to the counter, she can see that the bowl contains seven large strawberries, ripe and succulent, waiting to be devoured.

She reaches forward to take one, stomach growling from hunger, but a hand stops her. Long, feminine fingers thread through her own, pulling her away from the bowl.

“Willow.”

Tara’s body weaves in front of her, curves glowing soft under the bright, blurring fluorescents and Willow feels her heart soften as she leans forward, firmly pressing her hand against her ex-girlfriend’s. “Tara?”

“You must save room for dinner,” Tara whispers, voice wavering. “Or our guests will be very cross.”

The room swirls around her, vibrant colors blending together in odd splashes, lines twisting into snakes and curves…and everything starts to feel wrong.

“What do you mean?”

And then she sees them. Dark shapes, dark shadows swooping into the room, covering every surface. They stare at her with red eyes, angry eyes. Eyes that wish to swallow her whole, swallow her down, condemn her to hell. Eyes that wish to prick her, and prod her, and rip her to shreds. They are the eyes of her addiction and it feels like there’s nothing she can do to stop them. Tara lets go of her hand and starts to float, moving above the darkness, leaving Willow to fend for herself.

“I can’t join you for dinner, Willow. But you must entertain your guests.”

***

Willow’s eyes fly open as she swallows down a scream. She can’t remember the last time she had a dream like that. Not that it was a dream because it most definitely wasn’t. Her dreams usually take place on white, sandy beaches where waiters serve pear martinis and Joan Cusack purrs sultry nothings into her ear.

Her nightmares, on the other hand, run in the totally spooky, ultra-creep-factor direction. Not only that, but her nightmares tend to be a lot more realistic than her dreams since the demons of Sunnydale frequently have the sadistic tendency to make those come to life. She has yet to party on the beaches with Joan but she has been left dumbstruck on a stage in a room full of people expecting her to sing Italian opera. She has been the victim of her own magic gone awry at a frat Halloween party. And because the third time is always the charm, she has been humiliated in front of her peers while the Slayer Prima Evil sucked the life out of her.

As the present comes back into focus, Willow feels a sense of dread hit her square in the stomach. The room is dark and unfamiliar, shadows dance across the candle-lit, stone walls, and there’s a heavy arm around her waist. On an average Scoobie day, the dark room and creepy candles would make her think that some psychopath had kidnapped her and she would soon find herself ground into a fine powder to make his bread but the arm throws all that out of whack.

She rotates her head slightly, her peripheral vision catching peroxide blond hair and suddenly, the events of last night come back to her. She had been marking a book, tracing over every word and line with yellow highlighter. Then Amy had shown up, wanting her rat cage back, but it was just a ploy, a ploy to make her all magic-y again. There had been black eyes and sparkling electricity. There had been the taste of black cherries on her tongue.

But Spike took all that away last night. He took away the cravings, the addiction, just by sucking it out of her…with his lips, with his perfectly symmetrical lips that should be kissing girls who are prettier than she is. Because any man-demon-vampire-person who can kiss like Spike can…should not be wasting his talents trying to cure her. Especially when Tara wouldn’t even…

Her breath catches in her throat and she coughs softly. It hurts to think about Tara, especially now that she’s lying in the same bed as a vampire. A vampire who kisses her like there’s no tomorrow and can make her forget her own name. But more than that, a man who makes her want to buy an express ticket back to boy’s town.

Spike stirs beside her, his fingers shifting across her abdomen before settling down again. She gulps, feeling so aware of this new brand of contact that she’s not even sure there’s any clothing between her skin and his hands, and having clothes on would be a very good thing because she’s sure that she’d been crystal clear on her no-sex rule. A quick glance beneath the sheets settles her fear about the state of her dress as Spike shifts again, nuzzling the tip of his nose into the space between her shoulders.

“Morning, Red.” Spike smiles against the thin fabric of Willow’s shirt before raising his head off the bed to look down at her, ice blue eyes sending a chill down her spine as she turns her face towards him. “Trust you slept well?”

Willow offers a half-hearted smile, attempting to push her crazy, freaky nightmare into the dark recesses of her mind. She doesn’t want to tell Spike about it…at least, not yet. Not when he’s trying so hard to help her get better without calling her an arrogant amateur or a magic junkie. “I slept all right, I guess. Certainly wasn’t expecting to wake up in your crypt though…so I mean…I can get going and stuff. I don’t want to be a bother or anything.”

Spike tilts his head forward; his mouth mere millimeters from the tip of her nose and Willow’s teeth graze her bottom lip. “I don’t want you to go, pet. It’s nice having an adorable face to look at, as opposed to Harmony’s completely plastic nose.”

Her cheeks flush pink with blush as his words bulldoze over the jumbled mess of her mind. Spike thinks she’s adorable? Spike doesn’t want her to go? And yet she can’t help but find his non-snarky attitude a bit strange just because of the way he’s always treated her since he first arrived in Sunnydale. “Is your chip working okay?”

A smirk ghosts over Spike’s lips as his hand slides over the ridge of her shoulder. He can tell that she’s unsettled by his pleasant demeanor and that just makes this wake-up call all the sweeter. Her muscles twitch under his touch and he can’t help but wonder how long it would take him to get her other parts twitching. After all, she did spend the night in his bed and that can only mean she’s willing to be a bit more flexible with their deal. Not only that, but Darla always said he had the finest seduction skills in all of Britain. Nicest thing that bitch had ever said to him. “Chip’s working just fine, pet. Couldn’t hurt a fly the way I am. Couldn’t hurt you either, not even if you wanted it.”

It takes her a few minutes to process the subtext in Spike’s words, to process the boldness behind them. He’s talking about hurting her with sex. Spankings, and nipple clamps, and foreign sex objects that go places where the sun doesn’t shine. He’s talking about the stuff that would send her vampire doppelganger into a horny sex frenzy. And he’s talking about doing that stuff with her!!

Willow jerks upright, her head smashing into Spike’s with a resounding crack.

“Ow,” Willow moans, hand flying up to cup her aching nose. She doesn’t feel blood yet but it wouldn’t surprise her if it started oozing any second. She looks over at Spike and shoots him a glare. “Why’d you have to go and put your head in my way?”

Spike waits for the sharp flare of pain from the chip, seeing as technically speaking, she got hurt because of him, but all he gets is a barely noticeable pinch as if the chip couldn’t care less about Willow’s accidental head bonk. Instead, Spike chuckles and rolls off the bed, sauntering over to the small fridge on the far edge of the room and yanking the door open. He reaches into the freezer and pulls out an ice pack before walking back to the bed and handing it to her.

“This isn’t funny,” Willow hisses, tears stinging her eyes as she takes the ice and rolls into the bed sheet, before placing it on her nose. “If you hadn’t had to start with the sexy pain talk, I wouldn’t be in pain right now!”

Spike can’t help but laugh as he sits down beside her. It doesn’t take long for the realization to hit him that this never would happen with Buffy in his bed. The Slayer wouldn’t be giving him a pouty frown, wouldn’t be clutching ice to her nose, wouldn’t be freaking out about blending pain and pleasure with sex in the cute, rambling way that is so perfectly Willow.

“You wanted to taste the darkness, pet,” Spike offers gently, mind still racing with his ulterior motives. He wants to bury himself inside her the way his tongue buried itself inside her mouth the night before. He wants to let her feel the darkness melt between them. Wants her to really feel the impact of her decision to say: yes. At the same time, he’s not a monster. He won’t push her unless she wants it to happen, won’t force her.

“But it doesn’t have to be about pain. It doesn’t have to be about hurting you. The darkness can cleanse you; can wash you away with the comforts of sin.” He leans in close, brushing his lips over her cheek and pulling the ice pack off her nose. When she doesn’t protest, his lips press against the space behind her jawbone and his tongue slowly weaves down the slender column of her throat until he reaches the spot that makes her instantly mewl in pleasure.

“Spike…,” Willow says, feeling hesitant and insecure even if his lips are doing things to her that magic never did. But he’s a man and she hasn’t been with a man since Oz and it’s not like straight and gay sex are on the same side of the coin. There are differences, nuances, and she can’t bring to mind how they work. “I thought we weren’t going to have to…I thought my addiction could be something…”

Spike inhales deeply, picking up the scent of her desire along with the traces of ancient, primal power. Doesn’t take much to guess that her mind and her body are not putting two and two together, so he takes an extra step to help her put it in perspective. “What I have is better than magic. Stronger, even. A few nights with me and you’ll be under a different sort of spell.”

His mouth latches onto the hollow of her neck and he sucks gently, teeth barely scraping the sensitive flesh. Willow whimpers and tilts her head, giving him better access, and silencing her protests. He always knew she’d be a bit of a submissive in the bedroom.

Willow’s heart flutters inside her chest as she feels his hands slip beneath the hem of her shirt to brush over the cotton cups of her bra. When his fingers brush over the exposed tops of her breasts, her nails dig into Spike’s mattress and she bites down on her lip. It’s all so fast, so dizzying, so…insane. She can feel the fire on her skin from his caresses, and she wonders how that’s possible because he’s a vampire and he’s dead and dead people are supposed to be cold…oh, who is she kidding? Screw logic. It’s been far too long since anyone’s made her feel like she’s the only thing in the world that matters.

Spike takes hold of the hem of her shirt and pulls it upwards, feeling his own excitement grow as her arms reach up and the shirt slides over her head and onto the floor. He presses his lips against her solar plexus, holding them there for three seconds before moving down to the top of her belly button and repeating the kiss. He does this once more, hovering over her pubic mound.

Willow arches her back and thrusts her hips forward, letting him slip his fingers inside the elastic band of her skirt and her panties, sliding them down her legs in one swift movement. His cock twitches as it grows to full hardness, pressing against his dark jeans, eager to get inside Willow’s velvet warmth.

But tonight, that longing will go unsated. Tonight is all about preparation and guidance. She needs to be ready for him.

“Beautiful…” Spike whispers, taking a moment to admire the smooth planes and round curves of her figure and wondering why she bloody chooses to hide it under frumpy Grandma sweaters and baggy skirts. If people could see her the way he does, they wouldn’t see a cute sidekick. They’d see a fire goddess, a siren, an intoxicant, an addiction.

He positions his head between her slightly-spread thighs and experimentally runs his tongue over her labia; and he can feel her whole body shudder with pleasure. He flicks his tongue over her clit and Willow’s hands grip the bed tighter, mattress creaking beneath them.

She closes her eyes and tries to think of math equations, tries to think of science experiments, tries to think of other tongues that have come before Spike, but nothing replaces the feel of him. Nothing changes the fact that she’s in his bed and she’s feeling the tendrils of addiction curl inside her belly again.

His teeth scrape over her clit and her hips buck helplessly as her body shakes and trembles, as it tenses and warms, as it heats and explodes.

This is game changing, mind altering.

And…it’s so addicting.

Chapter 6

Master List For October 2009

2009-11-02T02:31:36Z

Here's my list of fiction and artwork that I've accomplished this month. I'm quite pleased with myself :)

BtVS/AtS

Change The Addiction (Spike/Willow)
* Chapter 1 * Chapter 2 * Chapter 3 * Chapter 4 *
FRAO/NC-17(Overall)--Multi-Chapter
The best way to get over an addiction is to change it...

HIMYM

Sometimes A Fantasy (Wendy/Carl)
*Co-fic with magpieinthesky
FRT-13/PG-13--Romance/Vampires--1564 Words
What if Marshall’s theory about Carl (from the Pineapple Incident) was right?

Angel's Nectar or Devil's Brew (Marshall/Lily)
FRAO/NC-17--Smut/Humor--593 Words
Lily likes the Tantrum….

Standards Of Behavior (Ted/Robin)
FRAO/NC-17--Daddy!Kink--1491 Words
Ted teaches Robin a lesson in cleanliness

She Changed The Story (Ted/Mother)
FRC/G--Drabble--176 Words
A first time for everything...

Artwork

Castle Icons (Worksafe)

Angel: Fred Icons (Worksafe)

AtS: Lindsey (Angel of Innocence?) (Semi-Worksafe)

Winners Announced At No Rest For The Wicked Awards!

2009-11-02T01:24:27Z

The full winners list for Round 2 of the "No Rest For The Wicked" Awards has been posted and can be viewed by going Right Here

Of course, I want to take a moment to brag about how awesome and talented my friends are and give kudos to ash_carpenter, velvetwhip, snowpuppies, fadednegative, blondebitz, purplefeen, and shannon730

I'd also like to thank the people involved in giving me an award for this round. My Forest/Graham/Oz fic, Hostile , won for Best Dark in the BtVS/AtS category.

Judge's Comment: Humans turning into monsters in a chilling story that shows you how sheeps in a special environment can lose all sense of right and wrong and are defined more by their lack of empathy than by their power. Revenge will be so sweet!

HIMYM: She Changed The Story (Ted/Mother) - FRC/G

2009-10-30T03:10:04Z

Title: She Changed The Story
Author: snogged
Disclaimer: Carter Bays and Craig Thomas own How I Met Your Mother. I don’t. Please don’t sue.
Pairing: Ted/Mother
Word Count: 176
Rating: FRC/G
Summary: A first time for everything...
Spoilers: Has references to the Pilot episode from Season 1
Dedicated with a love like whoa to magpieinthesky who's birthday wish was to have a Ted/mother drabble with the prompt: Firsts

When the time came to explain how perfect his first date with Diane went, it took Ted nearly the whole conversation to realize that his expectations had changed. The woman he found in her, the woman he could see spending the rest of his life with:

…enjoyed the company of cute, furry bunny rabbits over cuddly, playful dogs.

…defended the taste of a good Disaronno and challenged his love of scotch.

…preferred playing the drums for Guitar Hero: World Tour instead of the bass guitar.

…quoted one-liners from movies that everyone should know, instead of lingering in obscurity.

But these differences were outweighed by the sparkle in her eye and the goofy grin curling her lips. They were outweighed by the fluttering of his heart when he realized just how awesome it would be to wake up to Diane’s face every morning. And heck, at least she was able to enjoy a good Star Wars movie marathon…

“There’s a first time for everything,” Lily reminded him.

And wow, was she ever right about that.

Artwork: Lindsey (Angel of Innocence?) - Semi-Worksafe

2009-10-29T03:12:53Z

This was made for the Innocence prompt at the_elevator...and all I can say is this manip is easily one of my most favorites because I could not have gotten luckier with the base image that I found. I only hope that I did it justice.

Disclaimer: Base image found Here (NOT WORKSAFE SITE) and Christian Kane's head doesn't belong to me either.

BtVS: Change The Addiction (4/9) - Willow/Spike - Will Be FRAO/NC-17

2009-10-26T04:55:12Z

I'm very, very excited to be sharing the newest chapter with my flist. Hope you enjoy it!

Title: Change the Addiction (4/9)

Author: snogged

Disclaimer: Joss Whedon and Co. own the characters of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I don’t.

Pairing: Willow/Spike

Word Count: 1806

Rating/Warnings: will eventually be FRAO/NC-17. This part is FRT-13/PG-13.

Setting: An alternate route from Season 6 - "Wrecked"

Summary: The best way to get over an addiction is to change it...

Beta: spikesredqueen and velvetwhip. Thank you both so much for putting up with me!

A/N: Well over a year ago, I started writing the Addiction series based off a drabble I did for btvsats_love. I never got anywhere with it and so I wanted to try a rewrite to see if I could take myself deeper.

Previous Chapters

“You should have seen their lair. It was like a Discovery Channel special on a nerd’s natural habitat. There were Star Wars collectibles, Vulcan babes from Star Trek, and nifty magical artifacts. They even had a conjurer’s harp and Goddess, if it wasn’t the most gorgeous thing I’d ever seen.”

Willow perches on the edge of the easy chair, recalling the story of her mission with Buffy the night before. The mission that came after that crazy agreement she made with Spike. The agreement that’s all about about letting him change her addiction. The agreement that has been buzzing around her brain like a hive of angry bees ever since she made it.

Yes…yes…yes.

Her fingers nervously pick at the hem of her skirt as Xander and Anya join in on her tangent, and she’s grateful to have them distract her because it’s way easier to think about super-geeks than it is to think about the fact that she made a deal with a demon. Even if Anya’s persistent spoutings about the American work ethic and super-villains avoiding responsibility by going the easy route of lying, cheating, and stealing to get their way isn’t exactly high on her list of conversations to have at 8:45 in the morning.

When Buffy walks down the stairs in her red and white striped uniform complete with chicken hat, lips twisting into a miserable curl, Willow can’t help but feel a little pity for her best friend. Willow’s parents have been footing the bill ever since they realized money was all they could offer their daughter as love and affection came in short supply for Ira and Sheila Rosenberg, but she’s read enough books and seen enough documentaries to know that the fast food industry sucks and she’s willing to wager that coming home with a fine layer of grease on her skin will be way grosser to the Slayer than the fine layers of blood, dust, and grime she picks up fighting demons all night.

Plus, thinking about Buffy going to work is just one more way she can avoid thinking about Spike and his deals and his smirk and his eyes and his fingers on her shoulder…Focus, Willow. You are all about the ladies. All about being pink and proud. Don’t go getting your membership revoked…

“I’ll see you later, guys,” Buffy says mournfully, closing the front door behind her as she heads off to the unforgiving world of 9 to 5. The second the door closes, Anya starts talking and suddenly Willow finds her world going from bad to worse with a simple change of topic.

“So, I can expect you to not be doing any instant whooshing for my Wedding day?” Anya asks. “Xander says you’re totally off the magic train so I’m guessing that means you’ve joined some sort of twelve step program to get over yourself?”

“Anya, I’m pretty sure they don’t have Spellcasters Anonymous,” Xander replies, before glancing over at Willow. “I mean, it would be totally cool if they did because then you know, you’d have all kinds of crazy people to talk to about your problems…and stuff. I mean, not that you’re crazy...or anything.”

Willow noticeably flinches as Xander’s foot takes up a permanent residence inside his mouth. It hurts to hear her best friend since childhood call her crazy and problem-ridden. She’s certain that he probably means well. Or at least, means well on a level far superior to his demon fiancée, but it’s that kind of attitude that makes her realize exactly why she said yes to Spike.

Because Spike could make her better, could help her get through these problems, and she wouldn’t have to face down the daggers in her friend’s eyes, the daggers ready to stab and slice at her if she fell down the wrong rabbit hole.

Rank, arrogant amateur…

They don’t all say it the same way but they all carry the same message with them. They think she’s dangerous. A danger to herself, a danger to others. They know that Tara left her because she was using magic too much. They know Giles dances on the edge of trust with her and since he’s the big papa in the family, her friends are bound to kow-tow to his wishes.

“Actually, Xander, there is such a thing as Spellcasters Anonymous. I’ve already earned my special five-day pin and my sponsor says I’m well on my way to being a productive member of society.” She forces a grin and tries to hide the nervous tics that might give away her white lie.

Xander smiles broadly and pats her on the shoulder in a way that reminds her of how you’d pat a puppy for good behavior. “That’s awesome news, Will. I’m glad you’re working on this. And you know, I’m sure when Tara hears that you’re getting better, she’ll come rushing back to you.”

Willow flinches again at the mention of Tara’s name. That’s twice now in the last twenty-four hours that one of her friends has said that name and it stings. They don’t realize that she can never go back to Tara, can never taint that soul of light with her darkness. Tara doesn’t want an addict for a girlfriend and she’s made that perfectly clear.

But in an act of good faith, she pushes a smile through right as Anya’s bottom lip pushes forward into a pout, clearly hating the conversation she’s hearing. “So, you’re telling me that my wedding day is going to have to suffer because you’re not using your magic finger anymore?”

Xander frowns, “Anya, we need to support Willow. That’s what friends do.”

Anya crosses her arms over her chest and shoots Willow a tiny glare. “Fine. I’ll support her. Which I was going to do anyway because I’m still letting her be a bridesmaid because that’s what friends do.”

***

Spike pushes through the front door of the Doublemeat Palace and immediately saunters up to the counter, feeling a smug sense of superiority knowing he’s got one-up on the Slayer tonight.

Yes…yes…yes.

It’s not a word he’s used to hearing, at least not coming from a mouth attached to a woman who still has all her clothes on. But Willow said it to him. Willow said it to him in a way that was bloody genuine and painfully honest. Willow said it to him in a way that made him believe she wanted to turn herself over to his talents and see where the road would take them.

But Buffy hasn’t given him that time of day once. Instead, she’s just given him grumpy glares and biting words even when she lets him inside, even when she’s screaming out in pleasure as they ride each other into a numbing oblivion.

As she stumbles up to the register, the hostility she has for him is palpable, and if he wasn’t dead already, it would chill him to the bone.

“What do you want, Spike?” Buffy grits her teeth and tenses her muscles. She’s still a Slayer under all that standard-issue uniform and all he can do in response is cock his hip to the side and arch his eyebrow.

“Got a tip from Niblet that you were singing to the tune of the Doublemeat Medley. Figured I’d come in and see for myself,” Spike replies, hooking his fingers into his pant loops.

“You came, you saw, you leave now,” Buffy retorts. “I don’t wanna play your games tonight.”

Spike shifts his weight, letting a smirk curl the corners of his lips. He knows that if he presses her hard enough, she’ll play any game that comes to mind. He knows how to get her to crave him, knows how to get her to beg for a hit. But that’s not why he’s here tonight.

Tonight, he’s the one that gets to just say no. “Don’t got any games for you to play. Just came in to tell you that you won’t be getting my services for awhile. Hope you’re not disappointed.”

Buffy’s eyes widen and she snorts, nostrils flaring as her lips vibrate together. “Seriously? You think I’m disappointed because you suddenly have new ass to follow? Believe me when I say, I’m relieved.”

It stings to hear her say it, to feel her bite through his flesh with the razor sharp teeth of her words. He’s been in love with her for years; put a lot of effort into his obsession with her. But if Willow can turn herself over to him in the name of a new addiction, then he can turn himself over to Willow. No one ever said that he couldn’t make the change too.

“Well, good.” Spike hisses back. “Enjoy your bloody life, then. Hope the grease comes out of your pores.”

Without another word, he turns on his heel and storms out the door, letting it slam violently against its frame. He doesn’t even look back to see the expression on Buffy’s face but he sure as hell hopes that it’s one of horror.

Only one demon bothers to take him on as he heads for home and it’s a skinny, blue-skinned thing with an attitude and a posture that makes him act far bigger than he is.

“Gonna squash you, vampire. Gonna grind you into paste and sprinkle you onto my supper.”

Spike snorts, completely unimpressed with this little shit. He pulls out a cigarette and sets it aflame, inhaling deeply before blowing out a ring of smoke. “That right, big shot? I’d like to see you try.”

When the demon comes at him full-speed, Spike chuckles, arm shooting forward to encircle the tiny creature’s neck and snapping it like a twig without a second thought. The demon's body falls to the sidewalk and vanishes without so much as a glob of goo for the passers by to see. Normally, he’d be eager for a fight after getting verbally bitch-slapped by the Slayer but tonight, he’s just interested in the bottle of Jack waiting for him back home and the re-runs of Passions on the Soap Network.

What he finds, however, is Willow sitting in his chair and shaking like a leaf in a summer storm. Her arms are around her knees and her bottom lips is trembling something fierce.

“You all right, Red?”

Willow’s fingers pick at the hole in the cushion. “Amy…Amy did something to me tonight. And…I can’t…control it. I can’t…fight this…thing…that she put inside me. And I…need you…to fix me. Need you to change this…because I…”

It’s all he needs to hear and before she can even blink, his hands are on her, cupping her chin and drawing her face up to his. His lips crash into hers and he can taste the magic on her tongue. Can taste the darkness she didn’t put there. And tonight, he’s gonna swallow it whole.

Chapter 5

Absence of Light Round 2 Results

2009-10-26T02:38:04Z

I am very excited to share the news that the Absence of Light Round Two has posted its list of incredibly talented winners .

Of course, I want to make a personal shout out to those folks that I know personally: snowpuppies, velvetwhip, c_woodhaven, and ash_carpenter

Finally, I would like to take a moment to express the sheer awesomeness I felt to see my name listed among those winners. It's an honor and a privilege.

Judge's Choice - Best Dark Slash- Runner Up

People's Choice - Best Dark Slash

People's Choice - Most Original Dark

And there was the award that nearly made me lose my shit. I'm absolutely blown away.

Meme 2: Electric Boogaloo (The Ladies)

2009-10-26T01:56:01Z

I asked aaronlisa if I could try her meme again with female choices instead.

Of course...she had to go and make it difficult!

Choices: Cobie Smulders, Alyson Hannigan, Amy Acker, and Emily Deschanel

Shag

Cobie Smulders. Those lips, those eyes, that hair...plus, I bet she's a wildcat in the bedroom.

Snog

God, this was a really hard choice because I keep saying that I want to have Amy's babies. But I think a makeout session with Amy would be lovely. And possibly could lead to shagging ;)

Marry

Alyson Hannigan has been my number one actress crush for as long as Buffy's been on. I just wanna take her home and snuggle her. (And Alexis and Satiana can come too)

Cliff

Sadly, Emily did not really stand a chance seeing as the other three girls have been in my Top Three slots forever.

I hope someone catches her when she falls.

Shag, Snog, Marry, or Cliff

2009-10-26T00:10:10Z

Comment to this post and receive 4 options (actors/singers/so on, so forth). You must then decide which of the 4 options you would: Shag, Snog, Marry and Throw off a cliff.

aaronlisa gave me Neil Patrick Harris, David Boreanaz, James Marsters, and Jason Isaacs

Shag

Okay, I'm fully aware that NPH's sexual orientation might get in the way of this fantasy. But I'm more than happy to bring out the adult recreational fake penis strap-on if that would make him feel better about it ;) Or we could just role-play a few scenes from HIMYM. Like Cobie, I would totally use tongue!

Snog

I just want to David to grab me and place a steamy pucker on my lips. Mrowr...

Marry

I would love to look over at James's face every morning when I woke up and make love to him every night when we got home from work. *cuddles the Blondie bear*

Cliff

Jason Isaacs. I really only find him hot when he's wearing the Lucius wig and donning the Malfoy attitude. I still loves him, but he's gonna get the boot.

Running With Scissors Round Seven

2009-10-24T00:12:31Z

*puts big, purple fuzzy hat on her head and grabs her awesome walking stick*

It's time for me to pimp for the wonderful community "Running With Scissors Awards" who has opened up nominations for round 7!! The comm celebrates Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel fiction and only allows Supernatural crossovers.

This LINK will take you to their nominations listing and from there you can find the rules and categories that they are taking.

I also want to squeeze in my own thanks to the person who nominated my fic: "Change The Addiction" for Best WIP.

Anyways, go be awesome and go nominate someone! Because you can't have a fandom without the FANS.

Birthday Wishes

2009-10-22T14:50:03Z

glitter-graphics.com

Happy Birthday to emeraldswan! I hope you have a most awesome day, sweetie!

*huggles*

Birthday Wishes

2009-10-20T23:22:40Z

glitter-graphics.com

Hope your day is awesome, automotivesmile!!

HIMYM: Angel's Nectar or Devil's Brew (Marshall/Lily) FRAO/NC-17

2009-10-20T16:35:34Z

Title: Angel Nectar or Devil’s Brew

Author: snogged

Disclaimer: Carter Bays and Craig Thomas own the cast of How I Met Your Mother. I don’t. Please don’t sue.

Pairing: Marshall/Lily

Word Count: 593

Rating/Warnings: FRAO/NC-17; explicit sexual situations, humor, fluff

Setting: set after 5.05 – “Dual Citizenship”

Summary: Lily likes the Tantrum….

Beta: None. All mistakes are mine.

Dedicated to otempora42 and secondmezzanine, who are both feeling under the weather today

Tantrum was the devil’s brew, sent up from the deepest pits of hell to wreak havoc on the human body and send the senses into hyper-drive. Just one swallow was enough to drive the drinker to madness, to send them careening past the point of no return.

It was a beverage that channeled sin and darkness, but more importantly, it was a beverage that made Lily Aldrin intensely horny. It was a horny that needed to be quenched, needed to be sated. It was a horny that raged inside her like a disease, a horny that could not be left untreated.

Lucky for her, the cure was sprawled across the sofa, drinking Tantrum, nibbling on beef jerky, and basking in a post-road trip glow.

“Baby, is that ball of lead still in your stomach?”

Marshall smiled, lazy and satisfied. “Nope, that passed through the old colon about an hour ago.”

So it wasn’t the most welcome invitation for sex that he’d ever given her, but it would suffice. Nothing was gonna stop mama from getting her sugar tonight. “Good. Now, take off your pants.”

“I’ll wriggle out of them so fast, it’ll make your head spin,” Marshall promised, still feeling guilty for leaving her behind when they went to get pizza in the Windy City. Unfortunately, it didn’t quite make her head spin, which was probably okay when he thought about it, because booking an exorcism wasn’t a cheap endeavor.

Lily smiled, removing her own pants before straddling his lap. Her heart was still pounding furiously from the caffeine in her veins. Between the soft cotton of his boxers and the ridge of his cock pressing against the apex of her thighs, she could feel the wetness growing between her thighs. She wanted to be stuffed and mounted, wanted to ride him so hard that he popped like a bottle of warm champagne. God, she wanted him to rip her apart the same way he ripped apart the phone book.

Because mmmph…that was hot!

Marshall leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers, tasting honey dew melons, and cucumbers, and transferring the taste of teriyaki-flavored beef onto her tongue. She shifted in his lap, rocking her hips against his erection.

Less than twenty seconds later, the rest of their clothes were crumpled into various shapes on the floor. About ten seconds later, Marshall retrieved a condom that he found underneath the coffee table. And five seconds after that, Lily was feeding her body the lust it craved, and Marshall was groaning in pleasure.

As they made love, their bodies melted together until they occupied one singular space, one plane of existence. Their arms and legs folded inside one another as they tried to morph into one gelatinous, couple-y glob of awesome, Tantrum fueling them on.

Lily could feel the pressure building in her belly, could feel the tension in her thighs and internal muscles. Then her world suddenly exploded with one thrust, one stroke of hard, fleshy steel over her clit. And she felt Marshall’s arms wrap around her, holding her tightly until her body settled from the intense fury of her climax.

Once she came back down to Earth, she locked eyes with her husband and realized that maybe Tantrum didn’t come from hell after all. Angels were just as likely to take an excuse to go crazy. Just as likely to require a nectar to keep them going as they did all their good deeds.

She liked that theory much better.

Fang Fetish Awards Are Up!

2009-10-20T00:36:39Z

The Winners and Runners-Up for Fang Fetish Round 11 were posted today and you can view the full list by going Here .

I would like to take a moment to congratulate a few of the folks I know that were honored by these awards: velvetwhip, snowpuppies, and girlpire

I was pleasantly pleased to discover that I won an award of my own. My dub-con/non-con Angelus/Riley fic, Freedom Isn't Free , won Best Dark/Angst

BtVS: Change The Addiction (3/9) - Willow/Spike - Will Be FRAO/NC-17

2009-10-19T14:44:00Z

It's the start of a new week, and that means a new chapter to share :) I hope you enjoy this one as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Title: Change the Addiction (3/9)

Author: snogged

Disclaimer: Joss Whedon and Co. own the characters of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I don’t.
Pairing: Willow/Spike

Word Count: 1935 Words

Rating/Warnings: will eventually be FRAO/NC-17. This part FRT-13/PG-13.

Setting: An alternate route from Season 6 - "Wrecked"

Summary: The best way to get over an addiction is to change it...

Beta: spikesredqueen and velvetwhip

A/N: Well over a year ago, I started writing the Addiction series based off a drabble I did for btvsats_love. I never got anywhere with it and so I wanted to try a rewrite to see if I could take myself deeper.
A/N 2: This is where the fic spins off from canon as there is no car crash.

Previous Chapters

The butter sizzles inside the frying pan, tiny oil bubbles popping around the three eggs as Willow moves the spatula around, watching as they transform from runny yolks to deliciously yellow, scrambled food product. Scrambled food product that in no way reminds of her the offer Spike made the night before. The offer that was about finding a new addiction and from the way he was looking at her last night, probably didn’t involve building model planes.

“Ooh!” Dawn says, excitement rising in her voice as she bounds into the kitchen and comes to a stop against Willow’s shoulder, eyes peering into the pan. “It’s egg day. And I was totally thinking that we could add cinnamon and cheese to the eggs because I’m sure it would give it that awesome sort of texture that will make us the envy of all the cooks at Le Cordon Bleu.”

Willow wrinkles her nose, wondering where Dawnie comes up with these sorts of ideas. Yesterday was the disastrous peanut butter and cheese quesadilla and the day before, Willow caught her throwing anchovies into her Macaroni and Cheese. “How ‘bout we just keep the eggs as is for now and we can whip up a special Dawnie batch after our tummies are full?”

“If you say so. But I bet you’re gonna wish you’d gone with my awesome recipe.”

Willow laughs lightly as Dawn’s long, chestnut hair bumps against her shoulder as the youngest Summers nods her head and eagerly walks over to the breakfast nook, plopping a squat on one of the stools. Willow scoops the eggs out of the pan and onto two plates, taking her own place at the breakfast counter and flashing Dawn a small smile.

It doesn’t take long before the scrape of metal forks on plastic fills the kitchen as the two girls fill up their stomachs. And it doesn’t take long for Dawn to breach the silence with a random question: “What would you do if you were an egg?”

Willow blinks, fork half-way to her mouth. It’s not that she isn’t grateful for a conversation that doesn’t involve her addiction to magic. But she still has to wonder where Dawn’s trying to go with this. “What do you mean if I were an egg?”

Dawn leans forward, resting her chin on top of her hands. “Well, I was thinking about it just this second and I think we’re kinda like eggs. I mean, we start out as one, if you want to think about literally. But we’re also like one whole person and we have these different parts inside of us. Of course, way more complicated than just the whites and yolks and it’s kinda hard to break us apart but there are people in our lives that try to scramble us. I remember when Buffy was dating Angel, she was all kinds of scrambled in the brain.”

“Dawn, Buffy wasn’t…it wasn’t like that with Angel. It was more complicated than scrambled eggs,” Willow replies, still not feeling certain that Dawn’s egg metaphor is the best approach to the way humans work.

Dawn rolls her eyes. “Yeah right. Buffy totally had all her parts mixed together when they split. And when Tara left you…you went all…you know, extra magicky.”

At the mention of Tara’s name, Willow squeezes her eyes shut and bites down on her lip…hard. The taste of copper hits her tongue and her eyes fly open again, just in time to see Dawn’s face soften. It makes her wonder how much Dawn knows. Makes her wonder if Dawn can see through her the way that Spike can. Makes her wonder if Spike really does have the right idea with this new addiction thing. Because maybe if he does, then conversations like this won’t make her feel so suddenly aware of what she’s become.

“I didn’t mean it as a bad thing, Willow. You just…you were sad, and scrambled, and your pieces weren’t working as a whole anymore,” Dawn stammers, feeling terrible for mentioning the “T” word at the breakfast table. “So you did some extra magick to heal the pain. I mean, it’s not like you were doing it to hurt anybody. You were trying to heal.” Dawn pauses, searching Willow’s eyes for the sparkle of forgiveness so she can stop feeling like she’s just digging herself a deeper hole.

Willow shifts uncomfortably on the stool, thinking about the night before when she went to the Bronze with Amy. She’d been having fun; messing around with spells she’d been practicing, proving that she wasn’t just a… rank, arrogant amateur. And sure, she’d sealed that one guy’s mouth shut and turned another into a goat but once the magick wore off, they were both fine. She’d made sure of that. Because she’s was still on the good side, the Scooby side, the not-dark side.

But Spike had called her dark. Called her out on her desire to taste the thrill of being bad. So how is she to know where she fits on the spectrum? How could she tell Dawn that she’s right, that Willow had been scrambled when Tara left? That she still feels scrambled? That maybe she needs someone to show her direction? Even if that someone is Spike.

“Dawnie, how ‘bout you go get ready for school, okay?” Willow asks quietly, hoping her segue is enough to get Dawn out of the kitchen and to put a stop to the prying questions.

Dawn nods, sighing deeply as she sticks her plate in the sink and walks towards the stairs, slowly vanishing from Willow’s sight. But as Dawn disappears, the back door bursts open and the smell of smoking skin hits her nostrils, followed by the flash of peroxide blond hair hiding underneath brown burlap.

“Top of the morning, Red,” Spike says, unceremoniously dropping his sack to the kitchen floor and slowly closing the gap between them as if he’s a predator stalking its prey. “You’ve been thinking about what I said last night? You know I can help you change.”

“I’m not…going to have sex with you, Spike,” Willow replies, a modicum of insecurity in her voice.

Spike chuckles, reaching out to rest his hand on her shoulder and feeling the immediate shivering response. He knows these protests are inevitable but he never would have picked Willow for the girl to read into the naughty edge in his voice the night before. He can’t even remember a time when Willow has said the word ‘sex’ in any public conversation. She has always struck him as the giggly, secretive type who enters the bedroom on the pretense that she’s looking for a demon text or something. “Let me guess, because you’re all pink and proud, now?”

“Well, I am gay now…” Today, those words feel more like a security blanket than the truth because her legs are feeling trembly from the way Spike is looking at her, even from the way Spike is touching her. And what’s worse is that she knows he can probably smell it on her, or see it in her face, or something. Stupid vampire powers.

Spike’s fingers trail down her arm, memorizing the curve and tone of her muscles. They’re different than Buffy’s. They’re softer, smoother, lighter. They don’t feel like they’ve been weighted down by the world, or like they’ve killed enough monsters to fill fifty cemeteries. “I do really think I could help you kick this nasty habit of yours without causing any extra messes. You just have to trust me.”

“I can’t say you make it easy to trust you. I would run out of fingers and toes if I tried to count how many times you just show up here without an invitation. Or how many times you’ve tried to kill us. And you’ve tried to kill me at least three times now and one of those times, you had the chip in your head so you couldn’t actually kill me but still…point is…what makes you think that I’ll trust you enough to help me? Heck, what if I don’t even need help and I’m really doing just fine on my own?” She stops herself, feeling like the babble has taken on a life all its own and not the kind of life she wants to keep sharing with Spike.

Spike’s hand encircles her wrist and he pulls her arm up so that her fingers brush against her chin. “Red, you’re not fine. Girls who are fine don’t go to demons like Rack. They don’t get off on injecting the dark side into their blood stream. And they don’t pretend they don’t want to try something when the offer gets made. This isn’t something you can instantly fix yourself, and it’s not something the high and mighty Buffy is gonna fix for you either.”

“But I…”

Willow can feel the tears sting her eyes and she struggles to get her hand free so she can brush them away, but Spike doesn’t let go. Instead, he leans forward, swiping his tongue over her cheek, deftly removing the salty wetness of her frustration and sadness.

“We can do this, Red. More importantly, you can do this because I know; deep down, that you want this. Because the magick doesn’t heal you. That’s the kind of addiction that’s only going hurt and keep on hurting until you're buried so deep under it that you suffocate. But with this new addiction, it’s gonna make all that stop. Gonna heal you and make you come alive in ways you’ve never even imagined. All you gotta do is say yes.”

Spike’s eyes lock onto hers and she can almost feel him sink beneath her skin. Can feel the intimacy, the primal-ness in the way he wants to save her. It’s more than anyone has ever done for her. Everyone else seems content to just walk away.

It’s the pitter-patter of Dawn’s footsteps as she bounds down the stairs that interrupts Willow’s answer. Spike lets go of Willow’s arm as Dawn swoops towards him, snagging a hug and smiling up at him with cheeky brightness.

“Mornings are always best with Spike,” Dawn states, shifting her shoulder to readjust the heavy messenger bag.

Spike tousles her hair and grins back. Willow can’t help but notice the change in him. It’s almost fatherly. If vampires could, you know, be dads. As far as she knows, paternity tests have really never been an issue for the undead. “Have fun today, Niblet. Stay out of trouble.”

Dawn narrows her eyes but the smile stays in place as her arms curl around Willow, her lips brushing against Willow’s ear as she whispers: “I solemnly swear that there will be no more crazy egg metaphors at the dinner table.”

Willow nods, feeling Dawn release her and watching as the brunette practically bounces her way out the front door and down to the end of the street where a bright yellow school bus is waiting.

Once the silence returns, Willow pivots, gulping as she turns her attention back to Spike. All she has to do is say one little word but it feels like the biggest weight she’s ever had to carry because she knows exactly what it means to say it. The minutes tick by as she counts her breath…inhale, exhale…inhale, exhale…inhale, exhale…inhale, exhale… and he just watches her, waiting with the patience of a saint, as she considers the word that will turn her problem over to a power greater than herself.

“My answer is yes.”

Chapter 4

Feel Free To Defriend

2009-10-18T03:05:38Z

This is NOT by any means a post indicated that I plan on doing housecleaning or defriending with my LJ(yes, I've cut a few communities but it's because I just wasn't jiving with them anymore)... because I like you all far too much and I really don't want anyone to go.

That being said, I wanted to take a page from the book of dragonydreams, and offer a free pass to those who feel like we just don't connect on the same page anymore or that we don't talk at all to defriend me.

I will not be upset, or bothered by it.

I just wanted to put it out there for anyone who needed to hear it. And if you decide to, I wish you nothing but the best in life.

--snogged---

PS. That being said, I hope the rest of you are having fantastic weekends. And I send massive huggles out to all of you that want them.

A to Z Meme

2009-10-17T21:31:49Z

snagged from dischargie because it looked like fun :)

A
- Available: NOPE
- Age: 24
- Animal: Family cat named April.

B
- Beer: Not a concept I'm sold on
- Birthday: May 24th
- Body part on opposite sex: arms, smile, package *eg*
- Best feeling in the world: Having all the badness squeezed out you hug-style
- Blind or deaf: I think I'd go with blind
- Best weather: 70 and drizzling
- Believe in Santa: Nope

C
- Candy: Reece's Peanut Butter Cups
- Color: Midnight Blue, Hunter Green
- Chocolate/Vanilla:Chocolate
- Chinese/Mexican: Chinese
- Cake or Pie: Pie

D
- Day or Night: Night
- Dance in the rain?: Always :)

E
- Eyes: dark brown almost black
- Ever failed a class?: no.

F
- Full name: Ann
- First thoughts waking up: Don't wanna...
- Food: Yes, provided it doesn't have huge chunks of onion or peppers

G
- Greatest Fears: Spiders
- Goals: move in with Nick next May, graduate with my Master's, find a job I love doing
- Get along with your mother: Most of the time. Except for when we disagree.

H
- Hair Color: Dark brown
- Holiday: This year I went to Missouri and Dublin, Ireland. Next year, I'm going back to Lake Minocqua.
- How do you want to die: old age

I
- Ice Cream: Ben and Jerry's Half Baked

J
- Jewelery: mother of pearl necklace from Nick, Claddaugh ring from Ireland
- Job: student assistant at the Registrar's Office(paid), intern at an Adolescent Day Treatment program (unpaid)

K
- Kids: Not likely
- Kickboxing or karate: Karate
- Keep a journal?: I keep a blog

L
- Longest Car Drive: Colorado
- Laughed so hard you cried: yes

M
- Movies: Cruel Intentions, Princess Bride, Ice Princess, Dangerous Beauty (I'm eccentric :P)
- Motion sickness?: Not so much
- McD’s or BK: Wendy's

N
- Number of Siblings: 2 older sisters
- Number of Piercings: 4

O
- One wish: To be with Nick right now

P
- Perfect Pizza: Mushrooms, Black Olives, Cheese Stuffed Crust
- Pepsi/Coke: neither

R
- Reason to cry: someone I love dying, an emotional book/song/TV Show/Movie
- Restaurant: Ginza of Tokyo
- Radio Station: 94.1 WJJO

S
- Shoe size: 10 (USA)
- Sushi: Love it!
- Skipped school: When I was sick, but I don't call that skipping
- Slept outside: Yes
- Swear?: Fuck yes :)
- Strawberries/Blueberries: Strawberries

T
- Time for bed: 11:00-midnight
- Thunderstorms: Adore them

U

- Underwear: cute, cotton ones
- Vacation spot: Ireland and Lake Minocqua

W
- Which one of your friends acts the most like you: mmm...Tara ;)
- Worst feeling: being disappointed in myself
- Wanted to be a model?: At one time (but only because I wanted to be a Canadian pop star. J/K)
- Where do we go when we die?: wherever we believe we'll go
- Worst Weather?: Blizzards

X
- X-Rays: Had a broken wrist once, and they took my left kidney out at age 2

Y
- Year it is now: 2009.
- Yellow: Bananas

Z
- Zoo animal: Snow Leopard and the Penguins